


Forbidden Friendship

by Mistwolf_Magic



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Inspired by How to Train Your Dragon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-05 07:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4171935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistwolf_Magic/pseuds/Mistwolf_Magic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Everything we know about you guys... is wrong." <br/>Arthur may not have been the perfect Prince, but he had never once considered that his Father's stance against Magic could be wrong; at least until a chance meeting in the forest changes his world. <br/>The Future of Albion is upon us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prince Arthur was perfectly aware of how the people saw him. It didn't mean he had to like it. He knew he was sometimes called Uther's Embarrassment, that the other Nobles scorned him, and he often riled at the injustice. He wasn't completely useless; but that's how everyone saw the prince who couldn't sit still long enough to get through a counsel meeting, or who prefered to work in the castle forge with Tom and his daughter Gwen than train with the Knights.

That's actually where he was right now, sweat soaking his hair as he pounded a heated rod of steel into the beginnings of a sword. He turned to lay the metal back in the coals and pumped the bellows, watching the colors change.

"Here." The blond man turned to see Guinevere holding a mug of water. Her hands easily replaced his on the bellows as he took the offered drink. "How's it coming?"

"We're on schedule. The new batch of swords should be done by tomorrow night." 

"Just in time for a new batch of Squires to go into training." Arthur said nothing, taking the bellows back from Gwen and checking the color of the blade. 

Gwen watched a little sadly as he returned to pounding the metal into shape.  

The bells started tolling and he looked up, dunking the blade in a bucket of water. "Another one." He pulled the sword from the bucket and wrapped it in a swath of cloth before putting it up on a shelf while Gwen banked the coals. "Let's go watch, shall we?"

Arthur let Gwen precede him out of the forge and together they made their way to the main square where a pyre had been built. Uther stood on the balcony, watching the excited crowd with pleasure.

"Margaret Densha has been found guilty of using spells and enchantments. By Camelot's laws she must be burned." The spectators cheered. "Bring forth the condemned."

The woman was led out by two guards, haggard and in rags, her eyes carefully blank as they roamed the crowd. The cheering turned to jeers and condemnations as she was led through the throng.

Her gaze fell on Arthur and suddenly she lunged forward, tearing from the guards' hold and gripping his shirt in her hands. Her eyes burned gold as they locked with his blue ones.

"The time is upon us." Her voice was low and strong. "When the enemies of Camelot rage against the Tyrant. When the hope of many is lost. Fate will bring the Sword and the Shield together. Then will the Once and Future King gain the confidence he lacks. Then will Emrys find purpose for his wanderings. Then. Then will there be peace."

The guards succeeded in pulling the woman from him and she went quietly to the pyre. The watchers cheered as it was lit, but Arthur seemed to be seeing everything in slow motion and sounds were muted. Then he felt Gwen tugging at his sleeve and time resumed.

"Arthur, are you okay? What did she say to you?"

He looked down blankly at her for a moment. "I'm fine..." He muttered. "she was just spouting nonsense."

"My Lord." The prince and his friend turned to face the speaker. "Your Father requires your presence. Immediately." It was Sir Leon, the only one of the Knights that didn't treat Arthur like he was completely worthless.

"Of course." Arthur nodded goodbye to Guinevere and followed the Knight into the palace.

"You wanted to see me, Father?" Arthur was extremely aware of the sweaty black tunic, with the sleeves rolled up and collar open, that he was wearing as he stepped into the room the King was waiting in.

"Ah, Arthur." There was that disappointed scowl that Uther always wore when talking at his son. "That sorcerer, she said something to you in the square. What was it?"

Arthur blinked. "Um, she did-didn't say anything, really. Ju-just some inane babble..." He wasn't completely sure why he wasn't repeating the woman's words to his Father. Maybe because he wouldn't really listen.

"Are you sure?" It was barely a question.

"Yes, sire. I don't think she was quite sane."

"Very well, you may go." Arthur bowed and turned to leave. "Make sure you are presentable for the banquet tonight."

"...yes, sire..." Arthur closed the door quietly and slowly headed down the hallway. Another banquet... another opportunity for the Prince to humiliate himself.

Arthur drew his own bath that night - years of lugging around metal and wielding a smithing hammer made such tasks easy - and quickly washed the layer of sweat and ash from his skin and hair. Gwen showed up right before the feast to help him with the more complicated parts of his formal attire - as always.

"Thanks, Gwen." He murmured as she efficiently smoothed his cape.

"Good luck tonight."

"When have I ever had luck?"

She sighed sympathetically and patted his shoulder before slipping out of the room just before Sir Leon arrived to take the prince to the Banquet Hall.


	2. A Sorcerer in the Woods

 

Hunting had always helped calm Arthur down; much like the steady pounding of a forge-hammer would soothe his frayed nerves. The disgraced prince was sliding quietly through the forest, a crossbow held in his hands, when he heard a small crack and turned to see a beautiful creature.

Arthur sighted on the white creature and fired. Perhaps this would finally make his father proud of him. "Stop!" The bolt froze in midair and the unicorn reared. Arthur turned to face a boy - maybe a few years younger than himself - dressed in a roughspun blue shirt and red neckerchief; gold eyes faded to a breathtaking blue and the bolt dropped to the forest floor. The crossbow was trained on sorcerer now. "Unicorns are the epitome of Good Magic, they harm no one and give aid unconditionally." The sorcerer's voice was tight with anger. "What use would you have in killing one?"  

"No magic is good, Sorcerer." Arthur growled. "You all are monsters that deserve to die." The Unicorn trotted over to join the boy and he laid a hand on the creature's nose.  

Arthur shot the bolt and the other’s eyes burned gold as the bolt disintegrated. “If that's what you want to believe.” He paused, “Lehot!!” A wave of light forced Arthur to cover his eyes; when he was able to see again he was alone. Blinking spots from his vision, he slowly made his way back to the city.

“Arthur!” Gwen met him at the gates, “There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You had me worried sick.”

“Sorry Gwen…”

The dark girl looked him up and down, “Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her, “just a little tired is all.”

“She gave him a look that clearly said she wasn’t buying it, “Alright then. It’s getting late, we should be getting home.” They made their way quickly through the Lower Town, parting ways at the Forge. Arthur bid Gwen a quick goodnight before all but running towards the castle.

* * *

The next morning, Arthur was required to join his father for breakfast; he was actually slightly disturbed by the attention. “The blight of magic on our land has been spreading these past years.”

Arthur fought to not roll his eyes at the predictable topic of conversation. “Yes, Father.”

Uther ignored the neutral response, “You must never forget the evil of sorcery, Arthur.”

The prince’s fingers began tapping out a rhythm on the tabletop as the annoyingly familiar humming filled him like it always did when he sat in on the Counsel; Uther’s mouth tightened at the sight. “Are all Sorcerers really the same?” Arthur immediately regretted the question, but there was no taking it back now.

He flinched at his father’s tone as he responded. “To know one Sorcerer’s heart is to know them all.” Uther fixed him with a hard glare. “Always be on your guard, for a Sorcerer will not hesitate to kill you.” Taking that as his dismissal, Arthur stood and bowed before making a hasty retreat.

A Sorcerer will not hesitate to kill you.  His father’s words echoed in his mind. But if that were true, why hadn’t that boy killed him in the woods?

It was that burning question which drove him back into the forest that afternoon. He wandered the trees for what felt like hours, not really sure what he was looking for, or why. Then soft laughter reached his ears and he followed it until he arrived at a clearing; the sorcerer boy was playing with a couple of wolf pups - a rare enough animal in Camelot - with the mother lounging in the sun a little ways off. The boy was playing tug-of-war with one of the pups the same way Arthur often played with the hunting dogs every once in awhile. In this moment, the bloodthirsty sorcerer seemed remarkably human; he was broken out of his musings when he shifted and a twig snapped loudly under his weight. The sorcerer spun around, eyes flickering gold.

“Dont.” Arthur yelped, stepping out of the trees. The boy’s eyes flicked to the hunting knife at the blond’s hip and the mother wolf growled. Arthur slowly drew the knife and the tension thickened; then, with a flick of his wrist, threw the blade deep into the ground. “I just want to talk.”

He stepped away from the knife and gold eyes faded to blue. “Then talk.”

“Why didn’t you kill me? Before?”

The boy blinked as though confused by the question, then answered. “All I wanted to do was protect the Unicorn.” his brow furrowed, “You may not believe me, growing up in Camelot and all, but not all Magic users are evil. Most of us just want to live in peace. We want to live without fear of Uther’s hatred.”

Arthur frowned. “What about all those sorcerers who have attacked Camelot and her people?”

The sorcerer sat down on a nearby rock. “Are swords evil?” the non sequitur made the prince blink.

“No,” he answered slowly, “it’s a tool.”

“That’s what magic is.” The prince was trying to remember when he had sat down a little ways away from the other. “Whether it’s used for good or bad depends entirely on the person wielding it. There are Bandits, and there are Knights; there are War-Mages, and there are Protectors.”

Both fell silent, the wind rustled leaves the only sound; then Arthur spoke quietly. “I’m Arthur.”

Another beat of silence. “Merlin.”

Arthur shuffled his feet, “Will you show me?” Merlin glanced at him in bewilderment, “Good magic.”

A small smile appeared on the elven face. “Forbearne.” He held the flickering flame in his hand carefully. “Now watch,” another whispered incantation later the flame twisted itself into the form of a wolf pup which proceeded to frolic across his palm. A few minutes later, he reached over and grabbed an entranced Arthur’s wrist and turned his hand palm up. “It won’t burn you.” He promised then transferred the wolf into the prince’s hand.

“It’s beautiful…” Arthur couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the faintly flickering form, he had never thought that magic could do something like this, something so childlike and innocent.

Merlin looked up at the sun. “It’s getting late, you should go before people start looking for you.” Arthur reluctantly tried to return the wolf playing on his hand but Merlin stopped him by cupping his hand under the other’s; he drizzled a fistfull of dirt over the flame and his eyes burned gold as he whispered “Oristalliso.” Arthur gaped at the crystal that had replaced flame; the little wolf was posed as if in mid-howl and colored like the fire it had been made of. “Keep it,” Merlin’s voice brought the prince back to reality, “as a reminder that there is such a thing as Good Magic.”

Arthur looked over at Merlin. “Will I see you again?”

Merlin looked surprised. “What about the law? Just sitting here with me is treason.”

“Maybe, but I want to know more about magic. Please?”

Merlin looked down, thinking hard; on the one hand, Arthur seemed genuinely curious, but he was still a citizen of Camelot and could lead Guards straight to him. It was a long time before he took a breath, “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

Arthur’s smile made the fear in Merlin’s chest fade slightly. “Great. I’ll see you then.” He stood, gripping the crystal wolf carefully and heading out of the clearing.

“What about your knife?” Merlin had followed him to the trees.

Arthur glanced down at the hilt sticking out of the ground for a moment, “Keep it.” Merlin grinned and Arthur disappeared into the trees.

As the blond boy left the young Warlock crouched down and pulled the knife from the earth; the hilt was wrought of silver and bound in a deep  red leather, at the base of the blade was a small mark; a stylized dragon in flight. The personal crest of Arthur Pendragon.


	4. Hiatus Notice

**THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER. I'M SORRY. READ IT ANYWAY.**

Alright, so, as of today - August 9, 2016 - I am leaving to serve a Mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I will be gone anywhere from three to eighteen months and so subsequently my entire account is going on Hiatus.

I am in no way going to stop writing - have no fear - I just won't have access to my account.

Thank you to all who have been reading my stories, to all my friends, betas, and reviewers who give me input. You're help in more valuable than you will ever know.

Face the future with confidence - it might not always work out the way you wanted it to, but I guarantee that it will work out.

Until next time!

Wish me luck!

**WAYFINDER1314**


End file.
